Posted in running, travel

What If?

What if?

What if I can land that dream job and salary?

What if I meet that perfect guy and find my happily ever after?

What if I get that one chance to prove everyone wrong?

What if I achieve those huge goals?

What if I make the seemingly unattainable…attainable?

We’re all plagued with, “What if?” scenarios raging through our daydreams and thoughts. Repulsed by reality, we retreat to these pleasant moments that our subconscious conjures up, ones where everything goes right… The perfect day is had. The victory is won. The meeting gets cancelled. Everyone gets to have class outside. Work is cut short so everyone can play with a pile of corgis.

With the sigh of disappointment, we come off our clouds and back into reality, where life is grounded, familiar, real, stale. A snoozefest. Corgi-less.

But sometimes, you latch onto that one hypothetical memory, the one that keeps playing on repeat. It comes alive any time you are in a familiar room, a favorite song is playing…then you start to time travel…and your imagination soars to the future. Every move that is occurring in the hypothetical becomes more vivid, more vibrant; you can feel, taste, hear exactly what is going on as if it is happening right then.

You can’t escape it. It becomes consuming. You can’t imagine yourself NOT doing what your subconscious is hinting at you to do…


I told myself after the Marine Corps Marathon that I was done with marathons. Done. Donezo. Finir. End game. I did four marathons. Four is an okay number; it’s more than one. I was happier with shorter distances. I was starting to fall in love with 10Ks, possibly moreso than half marathons. I wasn’t stuck on some course trapped in my feelings of grumpy misery hoping that the finish line would come at mile two of 26.2.

Settling on my 99% done with marathons mindset, I ran through my runner thoughts: Giving up now means not reaching Six Star Status with the World Marathon Majors. Means no Edinburgh Marathon in Scotland (but there is a half!). Also means not claiming my deferral for Chicago 2018, which I purposely deferred because of life (like so many of us have had to do in the past).

(…frankly, I was repulsed by reclaiming my Chicago entry because it meant repaying $195…)

That’s a fifth of my rent! And I’m not making $14/hr on 42 hours a week like I was in D.C.

But that “what if” was nagging at me.

What if you put your name in for one last lottery, just for shits and giggles? If you don’t get picked, then you can retire from marathons!

Then the logical side of my brain jumped in with:

Buuuuuut if you get picked….ya gotta run it and eat your words after telling everyone you were done with them!

So this battle went back and forth for awhile. I was eyeing the Berlin Marathon, which I had been denied for previously. Its lottery window was still open, and its price manageable.

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Ah, what the hell. I’ll give them my info.

And so I did.


Time passed and the lottery closed. I went back to my normal routine. Pushed it out of my head.

In that time, I had found a song that I couldn’t stop listening to. I had set it as my alarm on work days. Something I could listen to on repeat and not get bored, a theme song of sorts. I discovered “Back 2 U” by Steve Aoki & Boehm ft. Walk the Moon on YouTube when watching various sorority bid day videos. There’s a lot of references to running in the lyrics…and it made me start daydreaming about my races and running in general…

So now I’m running like you set me free out in the wild
I know you want me to come home, but it might take awhile
I’ve got my heart in my hands while my head’s up in the clouds
And only heaven knows if I will make it back to you

So I, I just keep running…

Pairing this song to my recent submission to Berlin, I started dreaming…

About making my way to the airport, passport in hand.

Staring out the window as we fly over the ocean, clouds passing by.

Various Germanic scenes of villages, monuments, landmarks.

Starting that marathon at the pop of the gun with 44,000 other runners.

Racing 26.2 miles to the crowds of over a million, to the wall of cheers slamming into me each step of the way, the ensuing adrenaline propelling me to push myself more than I ever had.

Turning the final corner and racing that straightaway through the Brandenberg Gate to the finish line.

It was like one of those freakin’ montages that you see of an elite just before the beginning of a Marathon Major on TV.

Vivid. Vibrant. Real.

And I would tear up every time that I thought about it. For days. Because, “What if? Like, holy shit, what if this actually happens? It’s like I’m clairvoyant. I’m seeing all of this unfold in front of me. I’m getting goosebumps.”


I had a trip to Washington, D.C. planned at the end of November for the Cherry Blossom Kickoff Party. It was two days full of fun and friends while exploring around the city, like I always did when I lived up there.

During all of this, I was refreshing my email. Results would begin the 30th and would take several days to finish…but would they start midnight Germany time, or when their offices opened up the in morning at 9AM Germany time? Honestly, they never gave us direction on the timing. Just the date.

So I waited. And waited. Refreshed my email a million times. Checked my credit card statement (and got fooled into thinking it was the amount taken out. Nope. Just a payment I had made that was so close to the actual amount. Damn.) I tried to stay distracted by not constantly refreshing every five minutes. So I did some laundry, some cleaning, took my cousin’s dog out for a walk, watched some TV…

I was texting Chris when I popped over to my mailbox again for the 593rd time.

There was something new. I looked.

Congratulations!

My eyes went wide. Oh, my, goodness. I clicked open the email and read it. And I started crying.

I. Was. In.

I’m not sure if it was good vibes and good thoughts, or the runner gods wanted me to do this one last marathon, or what was going on, but holy shit. I couldn’t believe it.

My, “The Simpsons are going to Germany!” moment had arrived.

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Now, typically when I apply for lotteries, I blast it all over my social media. However, after proclaiming that I was done with marathons, I didn’t want the word to get out that I had entered yet another marathon lottery. I told just a couple of confidants through twitter DM, but I knew would have to be sneaky about it. At least for a little while.

Chris was ecstatic, as were Adriane and Robert (cousin/cousin-in-law), and my confidants. Social media was erupting, but I resisted jumping in on the party. Instead, I walked down the road and attended the Cherry Blossom 10 Miler Kickoff Party, which was the reason I had flown up to D.C. in the first place. Not only did I partake in meeting up with my friend, Heather, and meeting her husband, Roswell, but I got a T-shirt preview, lots of delicious garlic knots and salad, met other runners (including the race director for Marine Corps Marathon, Rick Nealis), and landed a guaranteed entry for CUCB 2018. So see ya in April, D.C.!

As I posted the news on socials and got on the plane the next day to return to Orlando, the fantasy montage that I kept myself entertained with for the days and weeks leading up kept rolling through my mind. Only this time, it felt concrete. Secure. My subconscious fantasy daydream stuff had been right. I’m not sure what good vibes the universe was giving me, but I wasn’t going to complain.

I got in.

I am going to Berlin, Germany.

My marathon journey is not yet over.

holycrapholycrapholycrap

Berlin-Ville

I was a child walking with giants a hundred feet tall
Out in the wild, you wouldn’t believe all the things that I saw
I took a high road out in the open under those stars
And all the while, I just got closer to going too far…

So now I’m running like you set me free out in the wild
I know you want me to come home, but it might take awhile
I’ve got my heart in my hands while my head’s up in the clouds
And only heaven knows if I will make it back to you

So I, I just keep running…


Now, fast forward to the present day. There’s one teeny little detail that I have left out of this entire monologue. Until now.

Whilst on the plane heading to D.C. the day before lottery results began, I pulled out my travel journal. I often write when I fly, as it calms my nerves and gives me a fantastic distraction.

I got my song going, cracked open my pen, and started writing….

Berlin results will be announced shortly, starting tomorrow. I’m tellin’ you…being selected will change so much. Having #BQinBerlin on my mind and striving to achieve something that perceived to be unattainable by so many will shatter that misconception. I want to make the seemingly unattainable attainable. Part of me wants to be that role model for others, to show that determination, discipline, and dedication are all required—not optional—to achieve the biggest dreams and goals.

That third line. The little tidbit that I have held from the internet:

#BQinBerlin

You read that right.

I went into this process with a mindset: if selected, I would be going out with a bang. I would be attempting to BQ. To train for, and to qualify for, the Boston. Freakin’. Marathon.

If Berlin truly is destined to be my last marathon, I am going to go out having put my best foot forward. If I qualify, then I’ll pull a Shalane and scream, “Fuck yeah!” I’d wrap up my marathon career on the biggest stage in the running world at Boston. If I fall short, then I know I had the best race of my life and I can retire happily having completed at least one World Marathon Major, and an international marathon.

No matter the results, there will be plenty of beer and bratwurst consumed post-race. And maybe some cake.


Welcome to my 2018 goal. There are many miles yet to be traversed, and it’s not going to be easy. Grab your running shoes and passports. The world is waiting.

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Welcome to #BQinBerlin.

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